


Battle Scars

by amorluzymelodia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Flashbacks, PTSD, Panic Attack, mentions of torture, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8428579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: Request: Could you please write an imagine where before the reader started to hunt with the Winchesters she was captured and held by (choose any monster) and tortured for a really long time. The boys bring up one of her scars and she panics and Dean calms her down.A/N: I'm aware that Sam is barely in this but the request was specifically for Dean so I tried to keep it along those lines.





	

 

  _A pair of razor sharp teeth sliced into the soft flesh of your neck, cutting deep. A pair of lips quickly replaced the teeth, sucking harshly and the sound of him swallowing the blood—your blood—made you want to vomit. Even though you’d endured the same torture for months now it never got easier. The vampire currently feeding off of you pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before gripping your chin tightly in his hand. You glared at him with all you had in you, which admittedly wasn’t much at this point._

_“Still not kicked, huh?” he smiled at you, your blood staining his teeth. “That’s why I like you, Y/N, why I keep you around. I like a little fight.”_

_You said nothing, just continued to glare at him and he laughed, releasing your chin and stepping back. You could feel blood dripping down the side of your neck and you pressed your hand to the wound, knowing it would stop bleeding soon enough. They never fed long enough to drain you, just enough to get a fix, and keep you weak. The door opened and another walked in, shedding his coat and walking over to you. The newcomer reached out and touched your cheek gently and you swatted his hand away. You’d already been fed on today, and you weren’t about to let him take any more from you. Your defiance earned you a hard slap and you fell back on the ratty mattress._

_“Okay, bitch.” The vampire standing over you said, fangs bared. “Have if your way.” And he grabbed your hair, biting into your neck, ripping a bloodcurdling scream from your lips._

 “Y/N? Y/N!” Dean’s voice shocked you out of your nightmare and you shot up in your seat, trying to control your breathing. “You okay?” he asked, concerned.

            “Y-yeah.” You stuttered. “I’m fine.”

            You knew Dean didn’t believe you but he just gave you a sideways glance and turned down the radio in the Impala. You now noticed you were parked outside of a motel, rain pelting against the car windows and the fluorescent glow from a neon sign casting odd shadows over Dean’s face.

            “We’ve still got about five hours left of driving before we hit Kansas. I’m beat and this place is cheap, figured you’d wanna sleep in a real bed tonight.”

            You sat up and peered out the window, nodding and smiling slightly at him.

            “Sounds great.” You said and he nodded. “You go get us a room, I’ll get the bags.”

            Dean nodded and hooked a thumb over his shoulder to the back seat. “Okay then you get to wake up gigantor.”

            You peeked behind you where Sam was passed out in the back seat. He was contorted awkwardly so his knees were bunched around his middle and his head was propped up against the window. As Dean ran inside to get a room you leaned over the seat and shook Sam’s shoulder lightly, careful not to startle him.

            “Sam, wake up.” You called softly and his eyes fluttered open slowly and he groaned. “We’re at a motel. You’re gonna ruin your neck if you sleep like that.”

            “Yeah well you try sleeping in the backseat of a car when you’re over six feet tall.” He grumbled and you just smiled.

            Dean knocked on the window of the door, holding up a room key and you got out, quickly grabbing your duffle from the trunk. The room wasn’t extravagant but there were two beds and it was clean-ish. Sam immediately fell onto the closest bed and began snoring almost instantly. You laughed and Dean rolled his eyes.

            “I swear that kid could sleep through a hurricane.” Dean joked. “You want first shower?”

            “Yes please,” you said and grabbed your toiletry bag out of your duffle, heading to the grimy bathroom and shutting the door tightly behind you.

            You stripped out of your clothes mechanically, turning the water on as hot as it would go—which is this shitty motel was just a touch above lukewarm—and stepped under the spray. Over the years you’d gotten extremely good at washing yourself quickly and efficiently and you were in and out of the shower within seven minutes. You ran a brush through your hair, put moisturizer on your face and brushed your teeth. You opened the door and smiled when you saw Dean sprawled out on the second bed, head buried in his arms. You set your stuff in your duffle and walked over, shaking his shoulder lightly.

            “Dean,” you said softly and he moaned, so you shook his shoulder a little harder. “Shower’s free.”

            Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes, groaning and looking around sleepily. He looked like a little kid when he was all groggy and you smiled fondly at him. He blinked up at you.

            “What are you smiling about?” he asked gruffly but his bedhead and sleepy eyes made you laugh.

            “You’re adorable, Dean Winchester.” You said and he rolled his eyes, standing up and nudging your shoulder with his.

            “Shut up, I’m a warrior.”

            “A warrior who just happens to be adorable when he’s sleepy.”

            He rolled his eyes again but smiled. You took turned your back to him and made to crawl into bed but froze when you felt a soft hand on your shoulder, right over where you knew there was raised scar.

            “Whoa, that looks pretty nasty.” Dean said conversationally, not noticing the way your entire body tensed up and how you stopped breathing the minute he touched you. “How’d you get that?”

            _The blade sliced through your flesh like it was butter, blood flowing freely. The vampires just laughed._

            You closed your eyes tightly and squeezed your hands into fists, trying not to panic. Memories came flooding back and you felt yourself slipping but Dean called your name and you shook your head.

            “On a hunt.” You answered, knowing it was a lame excuse.

            “Must’ve been a pretty rough hunt.” Dean sounded shocked and you couldn’t blame him, your back was littered with scars, deep, ugly and raised even after all this time. Reminders of a time you had tried hard to forget.

            “Yeah…it—it was.” You felt dizzy, your head spinning and your heart was racing a million miles an hour. When Dean ran his fingers down the scar on your shoulder, disappearing underneath your tank top you flinched away from him and he looked hurt. That is, until he saw the tears in your eyes and how you were shaking.

            “Whoa! What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, putting his hands on your elbows to steady you.

            Your breath was coming in gasps and your vision was blurry. You could’ve sworn that even though the wounds on your back were only scars, it felt like they were opening up all over again. You heard vampiric laughter in the back of your head and felt like you were going to pass out. Dean put his hands on either side of your face and spoke in calming tones until you could breathe again.

            “What was that about?” he asked kindly and you shook your head.

            “J-just a bad memory.” You said and he nodded, looking like he didn’t fully believe you. After assuring him you were fine he headed off to take a shower and you crawled under the covers, clutching the pillow tightly and trying to fall asleep.

You woke up to the feeling that something was wrong. As you slowly came to you felt a strong tension in the room and slowly moved your arm under your pillow, searching for your gun. When your hand was met with nothing but cool empty space you tensed up and stopped breathing, listening intently.

            “Looking for this?” a deep voice said and you rolled over, all remnants of sleep forgotten. There was a burly man standing over your bed, your gun held in one hand with a machete held at Dean’s throat. Dean had a few bruises and a cut on his throat, but it didn’t look deep. Sam was unconscious on the floor, blood running from his forehead down his cheek.

            You stood carefully, not wanting this to escalate. This man—or rather _vampire_ —was one you’d known a long time ago, and you had nothing but bad memories surrounding him. If he was here that meant that you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought, and you felt a stab of guilt that you were bringing down your crap on Sam and Dean. Hopefully if you could diffuse this situation quickly the only death that had to occur would be the vampire.

            “Hello, Y/N.” the vampire said and you glared at him, trying to ignore the panic fluttering in your chest and the burning desire to run out of the room. That’s what you’d done in the past after all, but he had Dean in his hold and you weren’t sure Sam was one hundred percent okay, so you swallowed your fear and faced him head-on.

            “Duke.” The name felt like poison on your tongue and you had to resist the urge to vomit. “What dank hole did you crawl out of?”

            “How did I find you, you mean?” he laughed and the sound made you flinch, dredging up memories of blades on your skin and teeth at your throat. “Oh sweetheart we never lost you, not really. We have your scent down pat, darling. You should’ve known you couldn’t run from us forever.”

            You’d heard this speech before, when you were tied up in some dank basement with three or four of them feeding off of you, telling you that there was no point in running, or trying to escape. And truthfully it had kept you scared and complacent for a long time, and now with Duke standing there you felt yourself slipping back into that scared persona, but Dean’s voice speaking roughly snapped you out of your stupor.

            “Oh god you’re not gonna start a monologue are you?” he spat and Duke growled, pressing the machete closer to his neck so you could see a few drops of blood appear. You took a step forward, holding out a hand.

            “Don’t hurt him!” you hated how desperate your voice sounded, but you knew Duke, you knew what he was capable of and the very idea that he would hurt Dean or Sam nearly sent you into a panic attack—as if you weren’t teetering on the edge of one already.

            Duke laughed again. “There’s the Y/N I remember! You always were such a martyr, always willing to sacrifice yourself for others. Not that it ever got you very far, usually it just meant more pain for you, and even then we wouldn’t spare the others. Although I must say I did enjoy having you around the most. Your blood always tasted the sweetest.”

            “What the fuck are you talking about?” Dean demanded and you fidgeted awkwardly, not meeting his gaze. Duke noticed and clicked his tongue.

            “Oh! Do the Winchesters not know?” he laughed again. “That’s just perfect! We had you for what, two years and you didn’t tell them _anything_? After all that we did to you and it never once came up? Hell I bet you still have the scars don’t you?” at his words a phantom blade sliced at your back and you nearly doubled over at the sensation, fully aware that it wasn’t real, but terrified nonetheless. Duke couldn’t stop laughing and Dean used that opportunity to stomp on Duke’s foot and elbow him in the ribs, spinning around and managing to grab the machete from his hands, kicking Duke to the ground. It was a testament to Dean’s incredible hunting skills that he was able to take Duke down so easily, because you knew Duke wasn’t weak by any means.

            Duke held his hands above his head but he had a smile on his face.

            “Go ahead and kill me!” he said mockingly. “There are others out there that still want little Y/N back, and they have your scent. You can’t run forever, sweetheart.”

            “Oh eat it Twilight.” Dean growled and in one clean motion, sliced Duke’s head clean off of his shoulders.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t sit still, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing. There were little black dots dancing in your vision and you felt like you were going to pass out. Dean’s voice sounded like you were hearing it underwater. Vaguely you felt Dean’s hands on your waist, helping you sit down on the bed and you put your head in your hands, breathing rapidly.

            “Okay, Y/N, look at me.” Dean’s voice rang out over the pounding in your head and you slowly raised your head, meeting his green eyes, though your vision as blurry due to the tears flowing down your cheeks.

            “Y/N I need you to breathe along with me okay?” Dean said slowly and you shook your head.

            “I—I can’t…” you gasped but Dean put his hands on either side of your face.

            “Yes you can, c’mon. In and out.” He took a deep breath in through his nose slowly and out through his mouth and you tried to match his pace. After a few grueling minutes your breathing was back to normal and your heart-rate had slowed down a touch.

            “Good, good.” He turned at the sound of Sam groaning and sitting up. He looked at you, checking to make sure you were okay and you nodded. Dean rushed over to Sam, helping him stand and pressing a rag to the gash on his forehead, though it had stopped bleeding. Sam looked a dazed and confused as his gaze went from the beheaded vampire on the floor to your shaken form on the edge of the bed.

            “What the hell happened?” he asked and Dean raised his eyebrows.

            “Good question. Y/N…” Dean took one look at you, and saw the tears still fresh in your eyes and the look on panic on your face and turned back to Sam. “Y’know what, let’s get rid of this body first, then we can hash this out.”

            Sam looked confused but nodded and helped Dean pile the body into the impala. Dean told Sam to take the body and dump it in the river and sat down next to you on the bed, where you had your eyes closed, memories flashing through your mind.

            _Razor sharp teeth tore into your neck._

“Y/N?” Dean asked, but you couldn’t hear him.

            _The sharp edge of a blade sliced down your back, leaving a deep gash and the vampires laughed when you screamed._

            “Y/N, hey…” Dean tried again.

            _“You’re my favorite,” a deceptively soft voice was a sharp contrast to the pain wracking your body._

            Finally Dean put a hand on your thigh and you jolted back, and the look of sheer terror in your eyes made him sad. You looked up at him and took a deep breath, trying to shake the memories and imaginary pain that they brought.

            “You know we’ve gotta talk about this right?” Dean said and you huffed a laugh.

            “Since when do you talk about anything?” you said and Dean rolled his eyes.

            “Y/N a freaking vampire broke into our hotel room, knocked Sam out, held a machete against my throat, claiming that he had an entire history with you and you think we _aren’t_ going to talk about that?”

            You rubbed absently at your wrist, remembering the bruises that seemed to constantly be there for two years straight when you were shackled down in that basement.

            “You haven’t known me for that long, Dean.” You said carefully, knowing that once you had this conversation you couldn’t take it back. Dean would know everything, and you’d have to tell Sam, or Dean would. “Before I met you guys….” You took a deep breath and swallowed the bile gathering in the back of your throat. “I was captured and kept by a nest of vampires. Duke was one of them.”

            “So these vamps...kidnapped you? Why?”

“I was supposed to be the Alpha’s next…gift. But the vamps who grabbed me got greedy and decided to keep me for themselves, as a blood slave. Except…after a while they got bored with just feeding off of me. Or they were angry that I kept fighting back. For whatever reason they decided to up their game.”

            “Meaning what?” Dean asked, brows furrowed and you smiled ironically.

            “Meaning that instead of just feeding off of me…they turned to torture.”

             Dean looked livid, and you couldn’t blame him. However, you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you.

            “They kept me shackled in this basement, fed off of me when a hunt went wrong, and hurt me when they got bored. They’re favorite method of torture was to…” you took a deep breath and continued. “…to take a machete and slice at my back. They said it was fitting, to hurt a hunter with the same weapon that hunters used to kill their kind.”

            Understanding washed over Dean’s features. “So the scars on your back…”

            You nodded. “Those were the scars Duke was talking about.”

            Dean ran a hand down his face and he looked at you, wrecked. “God, Y/N I’m so sorry.”

            You shrugged, even though you knew this wasn’t something you could shrug off. “It’s not your fault. It happened before you met me.”

            “How long were you there for?” he asked like he almost didn’t want to know.

            “Two years.” You answered and Dean cursed. “I got away one night when they were all out on a hunt. They usually left someone to watch me but I was pretty weak when they decided I wasn’t going anywhere. It took every ounce of energy I had but somehow I managed to get out of the shackles—had to break my wrist to do it—and get to the next town over before they knew I was gone. I’ve been on the run ever since, hoping they wouldn’t catch up to me.” You looked at the bloodstain on the carpet where Dean had killed Duke. “Guess it was only a matter of time before they found me.”

            Dean put a hand on your cheek and you turned to look at him. His gaze was determined.

            “Listen to me, Y/N.” he said strongly. “We are not going to let those bloodsuckers hurt you again. Ever. Do you understand me?”

            You wanted so desperately to believe him, that he would protect you and that they wouldn’t hurt you again. But seeing Duke tonight had completely thrown you off, and you were terrified. But Dean could see that and put both hands on your face, making you look at him.

            “I mean it, Y/N. Never again. I’ll die myself before I let them hurt you again.”

            His tone left no room for argument and you nodded, leaning forward and burying your face in his chest. He held you tightly for a long moment and you felt his fingers trace lightly over one of your scars. But this time the action didn’t send you into a panic, it calmed you. Dean knew now, and he would protect you. You were safe, finally.

 

 

 

 


End file.
